


Certainly My Poison of Choice

by Wand_of_Thunder



Series: Waiting For My Real Life to Begin [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy and Bucky are still morons, F/M, Steve and Natasha scheme, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1623494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wand_of_Thunder/pseuds/Wand_of_Thunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Natasha's plan comes to fruition. Will Darcy and Bucky finally wake up and smell the UST?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god. You all are the greatest! Thank you so much for all the kind comments and kudos. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> This story should only be about two chapters, but I'm not finished so there might be more. Definitely not done with this pairing. I still have so many ideas! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_“I couldn’t tell if you were a bitch or totally bitchin’” Jukebox the Ghost- Victoria_

 

If Steve Rogers was frank with himself, his girlfriend kind of scared him. He loved her, sure, but she got this look in her eye sometimes that just screamed “ _I know a million different ways to kill a man with my bare hands_ ”. And normally he avoided that look at all costs, but today was special. He had a mission. So, he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and approached Sharon where she was curled up on his sofa with a case-file in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other.

“What would you say to a double date?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible given the fact that he was a little anxious.

Sharon waited a beat then fixed him with a glare before going back to her studying. “I’d say you must have suffered brain damage.”

Steve sighed. He kind of walked right into that one. So, he tried again. “I think it might be fun, spending some time with another couple.”

Sharon put down her folder with a huff. “Well I _know_ it will be a disaster. Remember New Years with Tony and Pepper? Remember the _property damage_?”

“It wasn’t that bad-“

“The owners of that restaurant went _back_ to _Greece_ , Steve! They’d rather take their chances with a crumbling economy than risk another one of our ‘double-dates’. So, yes, it was that bad,” Sharon finished with a pointed sip of her coffee. He sighed again and sank down onto the couch next to her.

“I don’t think we were the sole reason they left, and even if we were it doesn’t matter. I didn’t have Tony and Pepper in mind, anyway.”

“Who, then? And if you say Thor and Jane, so help me god-“

“I don’t think you really gave them a chance. It was only _one_ glass. And it’s not his fault that he comes from a _different_ culture.”

“Ugh, we need new friends. _Normal people_.”

This was his chance. Steve took her mug out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table so he had her full attention. “Darcy is normal,” he said, like the idea had just popped into his head. An Oscar winning performance it was not however, because Sharon narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

“What are you up to, Captain?” She only ever called him captain in the field or to make fun of him, so Steve took his turn to fix her with a glare. Which, of course, only made Sharon laugh.

“Not up to anything, _Agent 13._ I just thought with all the hard work Darcy’s been doing lately that she’d like a night out with some friends.”

“You didn’t say ‘ _a night out’_ though. You said ‘ _double date_ ’. Darcy’s not dating anyone, Steve. So, that means you are conspiring to set her up with someone and want to drag me into your scheme. Nope. Not doing it. And I respect Darcy too much to let you embarrass her like this,” she replied. Sharon and Darcy weren’t the best of friends, but that didn’t mean she was going to let her meathead boyfriend meddle with the other woman’s love life. Not without a damn good reason.

“Come on, Shar. Can’t you just trust me on this? It’s not like I’m trying to set her up with anyone that will embarrass her or anything. The guy happens to be a very good friend of mine and thinks very highly of Darcy. Are you in or out?” Steve pulled out all the stops now, giving his girlfriend the trifecta of Steve Rogers earnestness. The voice, the eyes and the raised eyebrow all wrapped up into the perfect trap. Sharon was left utterly defenseless.

“Alright, you win. But only because I love you and don’t want to see you cry. Just tell me who this guy is so I can prepare myself.” Sharon softened her hard glare and melted into Steve’s side, giving him a sweet peck on the lips. She didn’t miss his triumphant smile, but she pretended she did for his own good.

“I was thinking Sam Wilson.”

Later, when Sharon had gone to get ready for bed, Steve sent a quick text off to Natasha before moving to join his girlfriend in the bedroom.

* * *

 

“Tell me again why you can’t go back to being my trainer?” Darcy asked Natasha for about the 164th time that week during lunch break. She had figured since Natasha was back home that things would go back to normal. That she could go back to life pre-Bucky Barnes and forget the whole fiasco ever happened. It seemed the super spy had other plans. “Are you training someone else? Is it Diana from R&D? She has nothing on me, baby. Please take me back!”

Natasha would have laughed, but Darcy had been playing the jilted lover all week and it was starting to become more sad than funny. “Once again, it’s not you it’s me.” Natasha sighed at the melodramatic look on Darcy’s face. “I’m _busy,_ Darce. And did you ever stop to think that maybe the switch is _good_ for you? Your marksmanship has improved exponentially since James took over. _He’s_ good for you.”

Darcy pouted. “He’s mean and scary.”

“ _I’m_ mean and scary. That argument is invalid.”

“Fine! But when I finally drop dead from all those evil dagger glares he shoots me, you’ll be sorry. You’ll ALL be sorry,” Darcy muttered, aggressively stabbing at her lunch. This time Natasha did laugh.

“I’ll make sure to send your family flowers.”

“Good, but no baby’s breath. My mom says it’s tacky,” Darcy said with the air of a woman resigning herself to her fate. Natasha had to restrain herself from leaning over the table and bonking her upside the head.

“What’s tacky?” Jane asked as she slipped into the chair next to Darcy that Thor had so graciously pulled out for her before settling himself across from his beloved. The sickly sweet pair made Darcy want to barf sometimes.

“Baby’s breath. I was just telling Natasha what flowers to send to my funeral,” she replied as her friends settled down to their lunch. Darcy eyed Jane’s slice of apple pie with longing before returning to her dry, boring salad.

“Are you ill, Darcy?” Thor asked, looking alarmed. Jane rolled her eyes.

“She’s fine, Thor. Darcy’s just being overly dramatic,” Natasha answered, knowing Darcy’s response would only worry the Thunder God more. They didn’t need another scene from Thor in the commissary.

“Barnes again?” Jane asked Natasha with another eye roll. Natasha nodded, making Darcy huff in annoyance. Thor just looked mildly confused as he dug into his enormous lunch.

“I don’t complain about him that much.” That earned an incredulous glare from the other woman and surprisingly, a laugh from Thor.

“I sometimes marvel at the stubbornness of Midgardians. If we were on Asgard, Darcy, you and James Barnes would have, how would you put it? ‘ _Wedded and Bedded’_ months ago. And a most noble match it would be!” Thor rumbled pleasantly. Jane and Natasha had to lean on each other they were laughing so hard. Darcy put on an indignant face.

“Hate to break it to you, Spaceman, but you’re _way_ off. _Stop laughing, you’re supposed to be my friends!_ And besides, I happen to have a date tonight with Sam. A nice, interesting, attractive guy that doesn’t come with a cargo jet full of baggage. We’re going out dancing with Sharon and Steve,” Darcy stated matter-of-factly.

“You and Sam?” Jane asked when she finally came up for air from her laughing fit. In all her time knowing Darcy, she had never actually seen the other woman date anyone. Sure, there had been a handful of mornings in the past when she returned to the office wearing the same clothes as the night before, but since they moved into the tower Jane saw absolutely no evidence of Darcy having a love life what so ever. In fact, she was starting to believe that aside from pure aesthetics, Darcy had no interest in the opposite sex.

“Yes, and you don’t have to sound so shocked, Jane. Hot men with muscles can be attracted to me too, you know.” Darcy was feeling defensive and suddenly had no desire to finish the rest of her lunch. She double checked the room for Bucky, and not spotting him anywhere, pushed her plate aside.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it, Darce. I’m just _confused_ I guess. I didn’t even know you and Sam talked much,” Jane responded unaffectedly. If anyone was immune to Darcy’s melodrama it was Jane Foster.

It was true. Darcy and Sam never really hung out. They rarely ever saw each other. He was the only Avenger that actually worked and lived outside the tower, and besides missions, the two never had a reason to talk. So when Sam had showed up in her office out of left field and asked her out, Darcy was originally quite flustered. But the date was with Sharon and Steve, a couple that she felt confident and safe with, so she accepted. Her stomach had been in knots ever since.

“Well, Jane, looks like you don’t know _everything_ ,” Darcy said, the words coming out with more acid than intended, making the knot twist and tighten with guilt. But it did the trick. Her friends dropped the subject and found a less inflammatory topic.

* * *

 

For the majority of the day seven o’clock couldn’t have come fast enough for Darcy, but when she looked over at the clock on her dresser and found she had ten minutes left, she wished time would slow the fuck down and give her a chance to pull herself together.

Darcy was never really the type of girl to obsess over a date. She went stag to her senior prom wearing a dress she bought at a thrift store three days prior. She was a modern, independent woman who grew up with the Spice Girls and Destiny’s Child, damnit! So why was she so terribly nervous as she stood in front of her mirror?

It wasn’t because of Sam, she knew right off the bat. He was a good guy, and sexy as hell, but she was certain nothing long term or life affirming would come out of their date tonight. Which should have been odd since not so long ago Sam Wilson would have been exactly the kind of person Darcy went for. Maybe that was what was eating at her, the fact that she no longer knew what she wanted. Only what she explicitly _didn’t want_ was clear.

Darcy was just about to declare this night a wash, call Steve and Sharon to cancel, put on her PJs and crawl into bed with her kitten, when Jane pounded loudly on her door and announced that Sam was waiting for her in the living room. Darcy took a deep breath, smoothed out her crimson cocktail dress (which clashed spectacularly with her bright green arm-cast), grabbed her purse and ventured out.

The scene that she walked in on was decidedly not a pleasant one.

Bucky and Sam were sitting across from each other on the sofa sectional, the former looking far more murderous than was usual and the latter awkwardly trying his best to ignore it. The atmosphere was strained and uncommonly quiet, suggesting that something had gone down between the two before Darcy arrived. The men didn’t have the best relationship to begin with, much to Steve’s dismay, but they normally remained cordial in public. Something was different tonight.

“Hey, Darce. You look lovely this evening,” Sam said brightly, smiling as he stood up. He took Darcy’s hand and spun her around, making the skirt of her dress flair out dramatically. Darcy grinned despite the mood in the room. “And I am loving this dress!”

Darcy opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the loud creak of splintering wood. Spinning back around, she found Bucky had broken off a piece of the back frame of the couch with his bionic arm and was scowling menacingly at _her_. Like everything wrong in the world was _all her fault_. Darcy frowned.

“Uh, okay… Steve and Sharon should be out in a minute. He just texted me,” Sam tried and failed to bring his date’s attention back to him. “Darcy?”

“What? Oh, right. Them. Give me a second, will ya?” She asked distractedly, not waiting for an answer before stalking over to Bucky and snatching the ruined wood from his hand.

“What’d the couch ever do to you, grumpy?” She spat and threw the hunk of furniture in the general direction of the trash can. It went in without her even looking.

Bucky refused to answer or lessen his gaze, making Darcy even more nervous. What the hell was even his problem? He didn’t OWN her. She could go out and have fun with whomever she wanted. She wasn’t even breaking any of his ridiculous rules! The restaurant they picked was healthy (and boring) and they weren’t staying out late, so she could get enough rest before the six AM wakeup call Bucky was sure to reward her with the next morning. Steve had even talked to him earlier that day, and he had begrudgingly relented. Now, he was acting like a sullen child, albeit an unfathomably deadly one.

“I’m allowed to have fun _. I’m allowed to have a fucking life_!” Darcy hissed at Bucky. She was losing patience fast, but he still didn’t respond. “Fine, be that way asshole. Just don’t break anymore shit, huh? Other people have to live here too.”

Bucky’s jaw twitched, he was clenching it so hard she was surprised his teeth hadn’t turned to dust. But still nothing. Darcy sighed, mentally washed her hands of him for the time being, and turned back to Sam. He was eyeing the pair of them very carefully.

“You two, uh, _friends_?” he asked, looking like he really didn’t want to know the answer.

Steve and Sharon finally appeared and realizing they had walked in on a tense moment, remained silent. Steve knew something like this was bound to happen. He had just hoped it wouldn’t. Nothing gave him a headache faster than Bucky and Sam bickering. Add a beautiful dame to the mix and things could get ugly.

“Not really,” Darcy replied coolly. “He’s just my trainer.”

That got a rise out of Bucky, literally, he was up like a shot and towering over Darcy in a heartbeat. She’d never actually been AFRAID of Bucky before, but the wild look in his eyes and the sneer on his face suggested _Bucky_ was no longer in control. Darcy found herself nose to nose with the Winter Soldier and it was scary as hell. He leaned down and she shivered as his stubbled cheek scratched against her own soft one. She could feel his erratic breathing in her ear.

“ _Have fun on your date,”_ he whispered harshly, his voice coming out in a near growl. As he turned to walk away, Darcy let out the breath she didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked loudly, sizing up his best friend like one would a cornered, wild animal.

“Just peachy, Steve,” Bucky replied sardonically, shoving past Sam to make his way back to his room. Nobody moved, or even breathed, until he disappeared down the hall.

Darcy was shaking like a leaf when Sam came over and gently put his arm around her shoulders. “You okay, Darcy?” He asked softly.

Darcy nodded, grateful for his grounding touch, then jumped when a loud crash echoed loudly from down the hall. Thor’s booming shout of alarm followed closely behind.

“Maybe I should go check on him,” Steve hedged. He looked immensely guilty to Darcy and she felt bad for the guy. It wasn’t his fault his friend had the social skills of a rabid badger.

“Don’t bother, Steve,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Thor can deal with his cranky ass. We’re going to be late for dinner.”

As the four of them waited for the elevator, they heard the electric crackle of Mjolnir and a jolly “ _HAVE AT THEE!_ ” from Thor. Jane’s faint but furious “ _For fuck’s sake, not in the apartment_!” was as good a cue as any to take their leave. Darcy was right. Thor could deal with an ill-tempered Bucky just fine.

* * *

 

Compared to the scene at the tower, dinner was smooth sailing. Pleasant conversation ebbed and flowed easily throughout the meal, which Darcy had to admit wasn’t as awkward as she feared. Sharon had a rule that forbade talk of war or conflict at the table, which everyone appreciated. Sam talked about his volunteer work at the VA and how it lead to meeting Steve (Darcy knew the dry bones of the story, but was lacking in any real details, so she absorbed every tidbit) and eventually being asked to join the team. Darcy in turn shared how she went from poli-sci major to Jane’s intern to Avengers mission support. It was a nice dinner. Low-key, which everyone needed.

After, they walked the few blocks up the street to a bar for drinks and dancing. The music was loud, upbeat and perfect for a casual first date. Darcy and Sam generally stayed about a foot apart as they danced, the exception being during a slow ‘80s hair-ballad when Sam drew her in close for a parody of the awkward school dance shuffle which left her giggling like a fool. Darcy let herself free and just had FUN for the first time in a long while.

The only thing off about the night was Steve. He was unusually quiet most of time and kept staring at Darcy and Sam like he was studying them under a microscope. At the bar, he barely paid any attention to his long suffering girlfriend, opting most of the time to sit out and watch. For the orchestrator of the night, he didn’t seem to be having a good time.

And at the end of the night when Sam was saying goodbye to Darcy, it was Steve’s poorly timed cough that made him think twice about kissing her. Instead he hugged her briefly and left the tower wondering what the hell his friend’s problem was.

* * *

 

Bucky hit the matt like a sack of flour after Thor tossed him carelessly off his back. The breath was forced from his lungs, leaving him gasping heavily. He was in way over his head, sparring with an _actual, honest-to-fuck god_ , but he was teeming with manic energy and needed a way to channel it that didn’t involve self-destruction.

The whole situation with Darcy had him rattled. It was getting to the point where he couldn’t close his eyes without her stupid beautiful face haunting him. In his sleep, he dreamed solely of her. About the way she looked in the morning, rumpled, bare-faced and fresh. Or the way her exercise clothes would cling to her skin with sweat after he ran her through her paces. Or the touch of her lips, the feel of her warm soft body pressed up against his. It was enough to drive any guy insane. And Bucky only had a tentative grasp on his sanity as it was.

Thor’s humungous hand reached down in front of his face, effectively derailing his train of thought. Bucky grabbed hold, letting his teammate haul him back to his feet.

“Have you had enough yet, James?” Thor asked with a good-natured grin. Bucky couldn’t help feeling like a little kid trying to beat up his older brother. Thor always made him feel small.

“Yeah, yeah you big oaf, just give me a second to catch my breath,” he replied, wheezing slightly. Thor handed him his water bottle with a look of concern.

“You are distracted tonight, my friend. Perhaps it has something to do with Samuel taking Lady Darcy out on a ‘date’?” Bucky spit water all over the gym floor.

“I think you just hit the nail on the head, big guy,” came a cheerful voice from the rafters, followed by Natasha jumping to the matt with a cat-like grace.

Bucky groaned. She was the last person he wanted to see right now. He’d gladly go toe to toe with a peckish Hulk rather than suffer through her goading him.

“Was that really necessary, Tasha?” he snapped at her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know I was following you! “ she laughed delightfully. “You were easier to tail than a five year old, James. I’d be disappointed in you under any other circumstances.”

Bucky glowered, not exactly proving Natasha wrong on the whole five year old thing.

“Ah, Lady Natasha! You too have noticed the effect our young Darcy has on James? I was beginning to fear that all mortals were painfully obtuse,” Thor exclaimed, clapping Natasha hard across her shoulders, making her knees buckle slightly.

“Thanks Thor … I guess,” she replied. “Care to help me knock some sense into this particular obtuse mortal?”

“I would gladly, but I must be getting back to Jane. The longer I leave her, the harder it becomes to wrestle her from her machines. I leave James in your very capable hands, Lady Natasha. ” Thor beamed at his teammates before picking up Mjolnir and heading back upstairs.

Bucky fiercely wished he’d take him with him. Natasha was giving him that look that meant “ _talk or I’ll hurt you_ ” and he was already feeling the beating Thor had given him.

“Just for the record, I’m not admitting to anything, so...”

“You don’t have to. Not to me. Darcy’s another story,” Natasha ventured gently. Bucky resented the soft lilt of her voice.

“I’m not a child, Tasha,” he warned, scowling.

“Then stop acting like one. Look, I know how it is. Letting people in goes against all our training, but that’s just Mother Russia whispering lies in your ear. You’re _here_ now, and so is Darcy and caring about her is not a weakness, James.” Bucky seemed to turn to stone at her words. Neither of them were very sentimental people, they had that ripped out of them years ago, so the words weren’t easy to say or hear. Natasha gave him a moment to process his thoughts before starting again.

“How did you feel when you saw Darcy go off in the arms of another man?”

He had his metal hand around her throat so fast she didn’t even have time to take a breath before he was squeezing down, _hard_. Natasha gasped, choking for air. Her watery eyes sought out Bucky’s, but found only dead, cold blue orbs. Spots appeared in her vision as she started to feel dizzy.

“Don’t defile her name with your cankerous tongue,” he growled out darkly, his words slipping into Russian.

Bucky tightened his grip slightly before letting go completely, stepping aside as Natasha crumpled to the floor. The room swam around her as she gulped down air and tried to compose herself. He sank to his knees on the floor next to her, his head in his hands.

“Tasha…” his voice was rough, small. “I didn’t mean...”

Natasha crawled over to drape herself over his frame, effectively hugging him for the first time in _decades_. Bucky heaved a sigh and relaxed into her embrace. They remained silent and still for a long moment.

“I know, James,” Natasha finally said softly. She was surprised to find her own voice thick with emotion.

It was well past midnight before either of them felt ready to get up off the floor and rejoin the real world.

-TBC


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, you guys! Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos. I remain blown away by the response to my silly little story. By the way, a few of you totally unearthed a plot point that will come up a little later and bite good ol' Steve on the ass. I'm super excited that people noticed!
> 
> Anyway, there will be at least another chapter after this one, so keep an eye out of that.
> 
> Much love, and happy Memorial Day!

Darcy was feeling light after her date, the pleasant buzz from two cocktails and dancing giving her step a jaunty perk as she made her way back to her apartment. Her little kitten Doug greeted her with a tiny mew.

  
“Hey, little guy. Mama had some fun tonight!” she exclaimed, scooping up the fuzzy creature and cuddling him close to her chest.

  
As she idly stroked the kitten, Darcy thought back to the almost kiss between her and Sam. She had leaned in a smidge, totally expecting him to lay one on her, but them Captain Buzzkill coughed and ruined the moment. They had to settle for a friendly hug instead. Part of her was disappointed by the missed opportunity, but an even bigger, more obnoxious part of her was just relieved. And she couldn’t quite put her finger on _why_.

  
Why would she feel any sort of _relief_ when her devastatingly handsome, charming, superhero of a date failed to complete the lean in for the good night kiss? She should be all tense and bothered. Right? _Right_?

  
Darcy closed her eyes and sighed.

  
She wasn’t thinking about _you know who_. Nope. Definitely not picturing his stupid ugly face in place of Sam’s handsome, smiling one either. And her imagination certainly wasn’t running away with the thought of leaning in for _his_ kiss, Steve nowhere to be seen or heard, and feeling his rough lips against her own soft ones. No fucking way.

  
Doug meowed softly and bit at her finger, bringing her back to reality. She put the kitten down on his bed and moved to get dressed for bed.

  
“I’m just overly tired,” she told herself, unconvincingly, as she stripped off her dress and picked out a cozy, well-worn oversized T-shirt to sleep in. “A little sleep cures all.”

Even Doug looked skeptical and he spent a good deal of his time trying to catch his own tail.

* * *

  
The next morning, a sleepless, slightly manic Bucky broke into Darcy’s apartment with every intention of pretending their little altercation last night never happened, waking her up and dragging her downstairs for a brisk morning jog. It wasn’t odd for him to invite himself into her personal space, but he had never done it when he explicitly knew she was sleeping. Mostly, he just tended to bust in when he knew she was either cheating on her diet or avoiding him. She did both frequently.

  
Darcy’s rooms were an affront to the senses. All bright colors, bold patterns and flowery smells. As opposed to her office, which Jane demanded she at least keep clean and organized, her apartment looked as if a technicolor bomb had gone off, streaming clothes, pillows and books everywhere. He always felt like he was entering enemy territory whenever he stepped foot inside.

  
Bucky grit his teeth when he silently closed her front door, his back muscles were spasming like crazy. He was still very sore from Thor’s sparring and the mental tilt-a-whirl Natasha forced him on last night, but he couldn’t sleep a wink. The Darcy dreams were worse than ever, leaving him spending the previous night awake, frustrated and in pain. Bucky knew in that moment that it was time to face the music, to lay all his cards out on the table before this infuriating woman and just hope she doesn’t laugh in his face. Or run screaming into traffic.

 

But when he opened her bedroom door and saw her sprawled out on her bed, limbs tangled in a bright purple comforter and hair a mess, something inside him clenched and he froze. She just looked so peaceful, so _content_ that all his plans for the day went flying right out the bulletproof window.

  
For a man that was born nearly a century ago, a man that fought besides and against gods, it was this moment that made him feel irreverent, unworthy. Darcy was young, unspoiled. He had no right to even be in her presence, let alone gaze at her while she was sleeping and vulnerable. He had once thought that the cruelest thing the Universe could dish out had already come and gone for him, that having his free-will torn from him was going to be the worst of it. But he was so laughably wrong.

  
This _thing_ , whatever it was, with Darcy. This was so much worse. Like a big goddamn celestial tease, the Universe had let him get close to her, this shining light of a woman, let him get _attached_. Here he was just waiting for the rug to be pulled out of him and come crashing back to the miserable hole his life had been before Darcy. He always knew in the back of his mind that she would find someone else, a _good_ man, and cast him aside without so much as a backwards glance. But now that he saw that happening, when he saw her with Sam, he wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he ever would be.

  
Bucky often found himself torn between placing Darcy high up on a pedestal where the evil and shit of the world, his world, couldn't get to her, and dragging her down to his level, teaching her how to survive by any means necessary in this godforsaken place.

  
He must have been standing there in his own thoughts for a while, because when a little meow startled him out of it, the sun had risen fully and was streaming through the window and onto the carpet. Bucky, confused as hell, crouched down to see what looked like a small grey dust bunny blinking up at him. It meowed again, this time much louder. Since when did Darcy have a cat?

  
“Nuh uh, baby. Mama’s sleeeeeepin’” came Darcy’s response to its cries, her voice thick and mumbled by sleep.

  
Bucky tensed, ignoring the hot spike of pain it caused to shoot up his back. He didn’t want to face Darcy now that he’d lost his nerve, but the kitten didn’t give a shit about what _he_ wanted. It mewed again pathetically. It clearly needed to be acknowledged before it would shut up. Bucky panicked slightly and grabbed the fuzzy bastard, desperate for it to keep quiet so he could make his escape.

  
Bucky obviously knew nothing about cats. Or pets in general. They weren’t fond of strange men suddenly picking them up with cold metal hands and holding them too tightly. The kitten’s cries grew louder and more incessant.

  
“Alright, goddamnit Doug, I’ll get up and feed you. Jesus Christ!” Darcy grumbled, throwing the comforter off and rolling out of bed. Bucky caught an eyeful of red panties and creamy thigh as she stretched and then fumbled for her glasses on the night stand. He knew he was screwed, so he stood up and cleared his throat. Darcy jumped about a foot in the air.

  
“Holy fuck! Bucky, what in Thor’s name are you doing to my cat?” Darcy screeched (And what did it say about her that when someone breaks into her apartment while she’s sleeping all she is bothered by is the fact that they’re making her pet uncomfortable?). She marched over in a huff and liberated Doug from his awkward grip, and held the kitten close to her chest. Bucky took a step back, trying to look anywhere but at her. Now that she was closer he could see the outline of her breasts and nipples through her shirt, he could smell her skin and shampoo. Fuck, this morning had taken a weird turn.

  
“You named your cat Doug?” was all that would come out of his mouth. His brain was in danger of short circuiting from the combination of Darcy’s body, her anger, the stupid cat and his own utter confusion.

  
“What was I supposed to name him? Thor named his Patches. It’s so _pedestrian_.” Darcy replied, noticing that Bucky was clearly very uncomfortable and taking pity on him. She put Doug down and stepped past the frazzled Avenger to make her way to her kitchen. She already had a can of cat food opened and in front of Doug, and was drinking a glass of water by the time Bucky pulled himself together enough to follow her.

  
That was all a bit too much for Bucky’s addled brain to take in at once. Darcy in nothing but a T-shirt and itty bitty red underwear. Wait, Darcy had cat? _Thor_ had a cat? Were they even _allowed_ to have pets in the tower? He got a flash bulb memory of an ornery old stray cat that used to live outside of a flophouse he and Steve frequented way back when. He was pretty sure the evil thing had bit him once after he tried to share his turkey sandwich with it.

  
“Steve’s allergic to cats.”

  
“No he’s not. Not since the serum at least.” Darcy turned to stare at him with her hands on her hips. “Did you just remember that?”

  
Bucky nodded tentatively, his face blank. It was rare for him to have a “flashback” without Steve or his psychiatrist prodding the bejesus out him first. They either left him incensed, or like in this case, glassy-eyed and vulnerable. Both perfectly good reasons to avoid having them in front of other people. And he sure as hell had never wanted to have one in front of Darcy.

  
“Is it a good memory?” Darcy asked, suddenly a lot closer. He could feel the slight heat radiating from her. It was grounding and brought him back to the present. Bucky could only shrug, unable to find his voice.

  
“Okay, well, that’s good right?” Darcy said lamely. They never really had actual conversations about anything other than self-defense and proper dietary habits. This was a big deal and she desperately didn’t want to spook him and take about five hundred steps back again. Darcy started to move away slowly to give him some space, but Bucky’s flesh and bone hand shot out, wrapped around her upper arm and drew her in closer. Her eye’s widened in silent alarm.

  
“Yeah, no, it’s good. This is good,” he croaked. Despite his words, Bucky sounded nervous as hell.

  
“What are you doing, Bucky?” Darcy asked quietly, her heart thrumming like an irradiated bird in her chest. She couldn’t fool herself any longer. She had a _thing_ for Bucky Barnes. One that she was positive would never be reciprocated and only end up in heartache and frustration, but here he was in her kitchen, bright and early, looking like a scared little boy and clinging to her arm like a lifeline. It was surreal, to say the least.

  
“I, uh, _fuck_ … I have to admit something to you Darcy. Just try and hear me out, okay?” She was positive that this was the only time in his many years that James Barnes was so unsure of himself. He had fought in wars and assassinated world leaders. Darcy hated to think that what he had to say was any more difficult or heavy than that. She nodded to convey that he should continue.

  
Bucky took a deep breath, released her arm and began. “The first time I saw you was after Steve got blasted by that psycho in Miami with a flame thrower. You’d visit him every day in the infirmary with a bagel and a dirty joke,” he paused at the fond memory. Darcy was puzzled. Bucky wasn't around then. He didn’t live in the tower until after Steve recovered from that incident. She didn’t even have the clearance to know about Bucky at the time. But apparently he knew about her.

  
“Looking back that was probably the moment I was first in trouble. You never saw me, not until the day I moved in, but I kind of _watched_ you since. God, you must think I’m a dirty old stalker. It wasn’t like I followed you or anything, I just observed whenever you happened to be around. I guess, you reminded me of something, _someone_ , I used be. I planned on talking to you one day, when we were properly introduced. But when we _were_ finally introduced you looked so scared of me, I knew a girl like you had no place in her life for a guy like me.”

  
At that, Darcy scoffed and gave his shoulder a weak push. “I wasn’t _scared_ of you, asshole! I had just never seen anyone with a metal arm before. Then you turned out to be all dark and broody and completely annoyed by my existence so I thought-” Bucky shushed her.

  
“Let me finish, Darce. And if you weren’t scared of me then you were an idiot. I’m dangerous. You and everyone else see me as this reformed, docile old friend of Steve’s, but that’s not me at all. Natasha knows.” A dark shadow fell over his face briefly. “Regardless, I kept my distance from you for your own good. No- _shut up_ , I have to say this now. Then Tasha started training you and I started watching your sessions. She knows about that too, she has to because when she had to leave on extended assignment she came to me and said only I knew what to do with you. I should have declined, told Tasha to make Steve do it, but I couldn’t. It was probably the only chance I would ever get to be close to you. You’re not a fighter, Darcy and that scared the hell out of me. It still does. You’re soft and kind and loyal, but when the shit hit the fan, you used to clam up. I had to help you find that inner strength I fucking knew you had. It was like I didn’t have a choice, you know? And now you’re this force of nature that socks assholes in the face and screams like a banshee and I could not be prouder.”

  
Bucky stopped, at a loss for how to continue. Darcy had this gentle, concerned expression on her face and she was staring at him so fully that he suddenly felt self-conscious. The part of him responsible for self-preservation demanded that he turn tail and run the fuck out of there. He could get out now, nothing said was too damning. Darcy would be confused sure, but not appalled like she was sure to be if he kept on flapping his gums. Bucky needed to stall for time to think.

  
“What are you trying to say, Bucky? Because right now I’m legitimately afraid that the next thing out of your mouth is going to be that you’re really my long lost grandfather, which would be beyond awkward since we totally made out,” Darcy rambled nervously. She kinda had an inkling as to where Bucky was heading, but it was just so unfathomable that it could not be true. Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin.

  
“What? No, I’m not your- you remember kissing me?” He was looking at her like she just sprouted a second head and started signing duets.

  
“Duh, it was a pretty unforgettable kiss, dude. Wait, you thought I didn’t know we kissed? Was that why you flaked after?” Darcy narrowed her eyes at him. That one still stung.

  
“I didn’t flake, Darcy. I’d thought you’d be mortified if you remembered. You were high and not really capable of making the best judgment calls and I took advantage. Face it, kissing me wasn’t exactly your finest moment.”

  
“So, Natasha was right? You don’t regret kissing me?” Darcy asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  
“No, Darcy how could I regret- hold on, _Natasha_ was right? You told _Natasha_ about the kiss?” The rusty old gears were whirring inside Bucky’s head as it all started to fall into place. If Natasha was involved then nothing was as it seemed.

  
Darcy stopped breathing when he confirmed kissing her wasn’t a mistake, but then immediately became an odd combination of confused and hysterically angry. Why was he focusing on Natasha at a time like this? And if he liked her enough to want to keep her safe and be proud of her and want to kiss her, then why the fuck was he acting like an anti-social hermit crab? She would take one step forward and he would take two back. Was he trying to say that this whole annoying dance they’d been doing was all because he LIKED her? What the fuck was wrong with him!? Darcy seethed internally.

  
His stupid rules be damned, she need a fucking cup of coffee. She turn around and rifled through her kitchen cabinets for her coffee maker and paraphernalia as Bucky just stood there with a wistful look on his dumbass face. Once the coffee maker was on and the water was heating up, she turned back to him prepared to yell her ass off, but he interrupted.

  
“I think Natasha was trying to set us up,” he said very carefully. Bucky was familiar with the Russian spy’s cryptic ways, but he was unsure how Darcy would react to knowing that Natasha was probably meddling behind their backs.

  
“Don’t you think Natasha has better things to do, asshole? Don’t try to change the subject. And let’s get something straight here. Are you trying to say that the reason you’ve been screaming at me twice a week and treating me like dirt, was because you secretly had a crush on me, but were too chicken to nut up and SAY SOMETHING!? Do you know how much TIME you could have saved the both of us if you were just honest from the BEGINNING?” Darcy Lewis had rage in her eyes and Bucky was a little frightened for his safety. She had mean aim, (he would know, he trained her) and was standing in front of a very full knife block. And god knows he’d never put up a fight against her.

  
He was also very confused since before he had any time to comprehend her words, Darcy punctuated her yelling fit by launching herself towards him and attaching her lips to his face. He kissed her back earnestly, having no idea what was going on, but never wanting to stop. Darcy kissed him like a woman possessed, grabbing at his clothes and hair, digging her nails into his flesh. Bucky couldn’t help but be in awe and succumb to her will. He was already going to hell, might as well enjoy the trip. He drew her in close, pressing her wicked curves into his own hard planes.

  
Darcy finally came up for breath at the incessant beeping of the coffee maker. She wordlessly wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, detangled herself from a stunned Bucky and poured herself a cup of coffee. He just sort of stood there, afriad to move less she realize what she had just done and run screaming, while Darcy quietly, nonchalantly fixed her coffee with a healthy amount of sugar and milk. After she took a sip, she turned to fix him with a glare. Bucky's heart dropped to his boots.

  
"Ugh, milk is not an adequate replacement for creamer, but since SOMEONE banned caffeine, I of course don't have any creamer. Sorry, I'm being rude. Do you want a mug?" she asked sweetly, like her tongue wasn't just recently stuffed down his throat.

  
Bucky cleared his throat. "Oh, um, no thanks?" He shook his head in disbelief at this strange woman standing in her pajamas causally in front of him. "Are we just not going to talk about that?"

  
"Talk about what?" she replied, her eyes twinkling.

  
"Well, you- fucking, we just... you-!" Never in his long life had he wanted to simultaneously shake some sense in to and fuck the sense out of a person. Darcy was a lot of firsts for him.

  
"What? Oh, _you remember that, do you_? I thought for sure you would have simply _forgotten_. Oops." She shrugged her shoulders and had to take another sip of coffee to hide her smirk.

  
"Cute, Sweetheart. Okay, fair enough. I suppose I could have handled that whole situation better."

  
"You think?" This time she didn't even try to hide her self-satisfied smirk. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

  
"You're enjoying this. You find my torment funny, don't you?" Darcy laughed, putting her mug on the counter and moving to wrap her arms around the pouting super soldier.

  
"Only a little bit," she admitted into the hug. Bucky held her close and buried his face into her hair. God, she always smelled so good. He didn't bother to hold in the groan that bubbled up in his chest. Darcy sighed contentedly in his ear.

  
"So, is this something we do now?" he murmured, not wanting to ruin the moment but needing to know. He was legitimately scared that this would turn out to be another one of those cruel dreams that plagued him every night (and most days).

  
Darcy responded by bringing his face in for another earth shattering kiss. This time she pulled back before it got too heated. Bucky nearly whined at the loss.

  
"I guess so," she said with a cheeky grin. "But only when you're not being an asshole."

  
He laughed, but inside he almost felt sick. This kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen for him. This sort of happiness was for people that deserved it, not murderous and loathsome creatures like himself. But if Darcy was too blind to see that, he wasn't going to mention it. He intended to ride this wave until it crashed into the ground, until she got wise to his depravity, consequences be damned.

  
"Just so you know, it would be very asshole-ish to not kiss me right now," Darcy said coquettishly, looking up at him with a gleam in her jewel blue eyes.

  
Bucky growled playfully before leaning down to give her what she wanted. Darcy clung to him as he swept her up in his arms and pressed their lips together. She parted her lips under his experienced mouth and gave a shuddering sigh. She felt weightless and giddy, it was incredibly freeing. About five months of tension was coming to a head and both of them were powerless to stop it, so they each gave their bodies over to their senses, effectively turning their minds off. Everything became a sort of glorious haze from that point on.

  
His taste, smell, and heat all hit her in waves as he spun her around and carried her to her bedroom. Bucky none-to-gently tossed her on the unmade bed and watched intently as she bounced slightly. Darcy, not one to waste precious time better spent naked, reached down and tugged her sleep shirt up and off her body. She tossed it and her glasses in the general vicinity of her bedside table. Bucky's mouth went dry at the sight. She smirked.

  
"C'mere," she beckoned. Laying back against the pillows, skin flushed, in nothing but a sinfully small pair of red panties, Darcy looked perfectly wanton and gorgeous. To him, she was a work of art, a fucking master piece, and he didn't even hesitate to rub his grubby mitts all over her porcelain skin.

  
Bucky adamantly thanked his lucky stars for this angel open and ready for him, before crawling up on the bed and looming over her. She tangled her small fingers in his long hair, bringing him down for another searing kiss, opened mouth and deliciously wet. He groaned, grinding his hips into hers. She gasped at the hard press of his erection against her pelvis.

  
"Off," she demanded in a breathless voice, tugging at his long-sleeved shirt. Bucky obliged and shucked the offending garment off. The hot press of her bare skin to his bare chest made him moan thickly. She was trembling under his touch. Forget butterflies, she felt like an entire family of pterodactyls had set up shop in her stomach.

  
Darcy took a moment to admire the hard lines of his torso, using the tips of her fingers to tease and explore. He tensed when she neared the seam of scar tissue where his body met the cybernetic arm. Bucky waited for her to turn away in disgust, or worse pity, but Darcy surprised him by leaning up and pressing hot, opened mouth kisses to his ruined skin. He shivered as her fingers traced their way down his arm and laced with his own metal ones. He met her eyes and a genuine smile graced her beautiful features. Bucky's heart felt like it was going to burst.

  
"I don't deserve you," he whispered. Darcy shushed him with a series of sweet, gentle pecks on the lips.

  
"S'not true. I need you," came her reply between kisses.

  
Bucky almost believed her, he wanted to so badly .He would give anything to be worthy of Darcy. He simply shook his head and pinned her arms down over her head, being careful not to put any pressure on her still healing hand.

  
"Need you more," he rumbled, brushing his stubbled cheek against her neck, nuzzling her like a big house cat. It tickled her skin, causing her to giggle softly and squirm under him. He relished the sound.

  
Darcy retaliated by bucking her hips up sharply, rotating them devilishly against the growing bulge in his jeans. He sucked in a breath between his teeth and leveled a stern glare down at her. She only laughed louder, full and musical to his ears. Bucky got the point and quickly moved to throw off his jeans and boxer shorts. Darcy took advantage of his momentary distraction, used her now free hands and pushed him roughly onto his back. He huffed in surprise as she straddled his naked hips.

  
Bucky couldn't help but moan at the feeling of her wet, clothed pussy pressed into his aching flesh. He was painfully hard, leaking already like a school boy. "Fuck, sweetheart."

  
"That's the idea, Stud." and with that she raised up on her knees, shimmed a tad awkwardly out of her underwear and rubbed her wet heat along his hard cock. He was milliseconds from pushing himself up and into her welcoming body when he noticed her looking distracted. He bit his lip sharply, the pain helping to keep him in control.

  
"What? What's wrong?" his own voice sounded panicked to his ears. Darcy pressed her palm to his chest in a soothing gesture.

  
"Nothing, I was just wondering if I still had condoms in my end table, or if I'd have to get up and walk alllll the way to the bathroom."

  
Bucky heaved out a sigh of relief. "This table?" he asked, before tucking her against his body, rolling them over and reaching for the drawer to the right of the bed. In his haste, his metal arm pulled the entire drawer out of the table, sending its contents spewing out all over the floor. Darcy laughed, her whole body shaking with mirth as he had to shift through an odd assortment of paperback books, lotions, tissues and jewelry. He let out a triumphant shout as his fingers finally grasped a small, square foil packet.

  
"Thank fuck!" Darcy exclaimed, tugging him back up and into her arms.

  
"My hero," she said fondly, as she took the condom and ripped it open with her teeth. Bucky groaned deep in his throat.

  
And he nearly choked as she reached down and rolled the rubber onto his aching cock. He lived through more than a few wars in his time, and this woman was going to be what finally killed him. Darcy smiled wickedly up at him.

  
Bucky couldn't wait any longer. He gently guided her to again rest on her back against the pillows. Once she was comfortable, he brought her into another sensual kiss, his flesh and blood hand teasing its way down her ample chest, past her belly and finding its mark in her wet curls. Darcy moaned into his mouth as he explored her dripping folds, a masculine pride welling up inside of him at being able to pull those sounds from her.

  
It didn't take long, a few circles around her clit and she was coming undone. He watched in awe as her entire body tensed and writhed, her thighs clamping shut, trapping his hand as her hips bucked uncontrollably. A high pitched keening escaped her lips when she reached her peak, a sound Bucky would never let himself forget.  
Before Darcy was able to come down, he withdrew his wet hand, used his knees to part her thighs and surged forward into the cradle of her hips. Finally, with some tilting of her pelvis, he was inside her. And nothing else mattered.

  
They both gasped, breathing ragged as he started to move. First slowly, then finding a rhythm that bordered on punishing. Every push seemed to drive the breath right out of her body. Bucky could feel the muscles in his back protesting as he thrust into her, but he couldn't care less. He finally had Darcy, and he wasn't going to let anything ruin this moment. She brought her hands up to his face, almost clocking him with her hard cast, and brought his mouth back down to hers.

  
They moved together for what felt like simultaneously an eternity and mere seconds. Their pace quickened, along with their heartbeats, eliciting an almost violent chemical reaction. Darcy arched and quivered and keened, finding her bliss for a second time as Bucky kept his desperate rhythm. She turned to putty beneath him and that was it. His release built up almost painfully before letting go. He shouted in Russian as he came, his limbs shaking, then collapsed heavily on top of a satiated Darcy.

  
She cradled him in her arms, brushing back his wild, sweaty hair as he came back down to earth. "Mmm... that was..."her voice trailed off with a contented sigh.

  
Bucky heaved himself up and settled down at her side, drawing her into his chest. "Yeah," he exhaled, still panting slightly.

  
"Yeah," Darcy echoed in agreement. She wiggled a little until she had the ugly purple comforter out from under them, then snuggled back into Bucky as she draped it over their rapidly cooling bodies.

  
He felt utterly boneless. Happy in a way he couldn't ever remember feeling. She liked him back. She hadn't run away in terror. Darcy was his girl, for now at least, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  
"We should totally do that again sometime. Like a lot," Darcy murmured. She felt drunk and slow-witted and _good_. Bucky laughed and pressed a kiss into her messy hair.

  
"Sweetheart, you just read my mind."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Bucky and Darcy this time. FYI I have never written a fully fleshed out sex scene before, and I'm not so confident in my ability. Any constructive criticism or comments would be seriously appreciated. 
> 
> Next chapter will include Steve and Natasha, and more angry Darcy!
> 
> Thanks again!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had to have dental surgery and have been laid up in bed being miserable for days. 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read and comment and give kudos! It gives me special feelings :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy Friday the 13th!

Jane was sitting alone in her office behind a monstrous stack of paperwork, and silently cursing her absent assistant. Normally, she considered herself a cool boss. She didn’t think she asked for too much from her intern turned friend/right hand. She understood that Darcy had a date last night and was probably still sleeping it off, but noon was kinda pushing it. And this paperwork was due by five or they weren’t going to be paid for that period and Jane had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Resisting the urge to simply abandon the papers and hope the problem magically solves itself, Jane picked up her phone and made another fruitless attempt to contact Darcy. It just rang until it went to her voicemail, which was already full of the increasingly angry messages Jane had left earlier. She threw down the phone in frustration, glad no one else was around when it tumbled off the desk and onto the floor. Jane huffed, snatched the wayward cell phone off the tile floor, thanking Odin it wasn’t broken, and stuffed it in her hobo bag.

Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. If Darcy wasn’t going to come to Jane, then Jane decided that she would go to Darcy.

 

* * *

 

Steve had been pounding on Bucky’s door for nearly five minutes when Dr. Foster stormed past him in the hallway. He paused, hand poised to knock again, to watch in amusement as the tiny scientist stomped to Darcy’s door, took a deep breath and shouted.

“DARCY LEWIS! You are _three hours_ late for work! I need you in the office.” And if the shrillness of her voice wasn’t enough, Jane followed up with a loud, frantic knocking on the door that was sure to wake the dead. Steve laughed.

“Darcy not up yet?” he asked, sarcastically.

Jane leveled him with a death glare. “No, she’s not. And I’m blaming you, by the way. If you hadn’t set her up on a date on _a work night_ , she wouldn’t be so tired.”

“Hey now, we all got home nice and early. You can’t pin this on me,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against Bucky’s door. Ever since he woke up in the 21st century and found himself surrounded by female equals, he had been fascinated by their relationships, Jane and Darcy’s in particular. To him they were the epitome of modern women. So, he figured he could take five from trying to lure his anti-social friend from out of his lair, and observe the unfolding scene.

“I’ll do what I please,” Jane haughtily bit back before rapping her knuckles again on the door. “DARCY LEWIS GET YOUR ASS UP!”

A thump and some muffled swearing, followed by what was clearly someone being slapped on bare skin, answered the knock this time. Jane’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she distinguished two voices, one very distinctly male coming from Darcy’s room.

“Keep your panties on! I’m coming, Jesus fucking Christ!” Darcy yelled, her voice unusually strained and stifled by the walls.

“Well, looks like what you lack as a chaperone, you make up for as a matchmaker.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “I don’t follow?”

Jane sighed in a mixture of frustration and pity. “Darcy is not alone this morning, and if the frantic sounds behind the door are any indication, she spent the night with a certain winged friend of ours,” she said slowly, trying her best to spell it out as tactfully as possible. She really never thought that she’d ever have to be the one to tell Captain America that his friend and her friend were hooking up. Life had gotten so bizarre.

“But, it was only one date!” Steve exclaimed before moving to pound on Darcy’s door himself. He was so overcome with dread that his stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of his mouth.

“DARCY OPEN THIS DOOR!”

 

* * *

 

_*meanwhile*_

Darcy found her budding relationship with Bucky to be oddly reminiscent of the children’s book “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”. After Bucky got a taste of her “cookie”, he needed a glass of milk, so to speak. And he was insatiable.

By noon that very first day, he had already dragged at least seven more orgasms out of the exhausted Darcy and was just about to go down for number eight when she finally had to put an end to the festivities. Her lady bits couldn’t take it anymore.

“Slow your roll, cowboy. You may be a sex robot, but I need rest… and breakfast,” Darcy warned, tugging at his shaggy hair as he pressed lazy kisses around her belly button.

They had run out of condoms hours ago (she didn’t exactly have a previous reason to stockpile), but that had seemed to only spur Bucky on, like he was rising to some erotic challenge. How many ways could the two of them have sex without actual penetration? The answer was a lot. Too many, if Darcy was perfectly honest. She was going to be sore later.

Bucky mumbled something unintelligible into her skin and bit at her hipbone before finally raising his head. He grinned wolfishly up at her.

“You’re going to have to repeat that, hun.”

“I said,” Bucky heaved himself up to lie next to her. “That’s an odd way to beg for mercy.”

“You’re an asshole,” she whined and stretched her aching limbs. Bucky took the opportunity to leer and run his flesh hand appreciatively over her arched torso. She still shivered at his touch, making his self-satisfied smirk grow even bigger.

“Paws off mister. It’s time to rejoin the real world,” Darcy said, playfully slapping Bucky’s wandering hand away. He actually pouted a little before nodding his head.

“Alright, but later I’m going to-“ he started to tease, but suddenly froze and cut the words short, his head whipping around to stare at the closed bedroom door.  In the back of her mind, Darcy was afraid that something had triggered him, he looked so cold and focused in a split second.

“Bucky, what’s-“ but her own words were cut off when he rolled on top of her and slammed his flesh hand over her mouth. He had a manic look in his eyes that made Darcy’s stomach clench.

“Stay here,” he demanded with a low rumble. She didn’t even have the time to question before Bucky had thrown himself off her bed, buck ass naked, executed a combat roll and took a defensive stance beside her bedroom door.

“Buck-“ she tried again, only to be silenced with an icy glare. He wasn’t Bucky right then, at least not all the way. Her heart was pumping in double time. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, to trust that he’s not bat shit crazy and imagining some phantom interloper, but all the evidence pointed to the contrary. And if he was having some sort of mental breakdown, or combat flashback, Darcy had absolutely no idea what to do.

Then he gingerly opened the door and she could hear it too. A faint rhythmic pounding, followed by a muffled shout.

Darcy heaved a sigh of relief. Someone was just knocking on a door in the hallway. The walls in the tower weren’t exactly sound proof and it was common to hear people out in the hall on a regular basis. Jesus, did this poor guy go through this every time there was a noise outside his door? Now, confident that neither Bucky was having a meltdown nor anyone was in any danger, Darcy slowly and carefully swung her bare legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

Bucky was halfway to her front door before she caught up to him and gently touched his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you gonna do huh, barge out there in your birthday suit?”

A flicker of rage appeared in his steely eyes for a brief second until he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. His whole body, once tensed and rippling with nervous energy, sagged a little as he turned into her. Darcy gladly opened her arms to him and rested her head on his chest as he took a few breaths to compose himself.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he sighed, taking comfort in the smell and touch of soft, grounding Darcy. He was surprised to find her calm and unafraid. “Darcy, I-“

Their moment was intruded upon by an ungodly loud banging on her front door. Bucky bristled like a nervous tom cat.

“DARCY LEWIS! You are _three hours_ late for work! I need you in the office.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to say something, but Darcy clamped her hand over his mouth and shook her head vehemently. It was way too early in whatever the hell this thing was between them, and the last thing Darcy wanted was Jane scaring the skittish man away.

“We are not here,” she mouthed. Bucky shot her a weird look, but nodded all the same. Satisfied, Darcy removed her hand from his mouth.

After a few beats of them just breathing, still in an embrace and still very much naked, and listening to what sounded like a conversation outside Darcy’s door, they relaxed into each other. Bucky walked his metal fingers slowly up her spine, making her squirm and stifle a giggle. He beamed down at her, all traces of Winter Soldier vanished, and drew her in closer, relishing the feel of her smooth naked flesh on his own. She could feel the growing press of his erection on her hip, and raised an eyebrow up to him. Incorrigible.

“DARCY LEWIS GET YOUR ASS UP!”

Darcy was so caught up in their little interlude that Jane’s screaming frightened her so terribly that she reacted as if a bomb had gone off, throwing herself behind the sofa none to gracefully and yanking an amused Bucky down with her.

“God fucking damnit!” she breathed, clutching her chest as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Bucky smirked down at her, a teasing remark on the edge of his kiss swollen lips, but Darcy reached out and slapped his chest before he could open his mouth.

“Ouch, hey I thought I was supposed to be the violent one.”

“Shut up and get in the bedroom,” she hissed simultaneously getting to her feet and dragging Bucky back to her room. “Keep your panties on! I’m coming, Jesus fucking Christ!” she shouted to Jane behind the door, trying for all her life to sound like a former KGB assassin wasn’t naked in her bedroom.

Darcy was panicking, but lucky for her said assassin was cool under pressure. Bucky, shoulders shaking in silent mirth, grabbed the fluffy lavender robe from off the hook in her bathroom and held it open for her like coat. Grateful for his foresight, considering she would have probably opened the door and flashed poor, unsuspecting Jane, Darcy shrugged into the soft robe and left the fuzzy material and familiar smell calm her down. She turned around and nodded her head at Bucky in thanks.

“DARCY OPEN THIS DOOR!”

This time they both startled. Bucky was in the middle of pushing Darcy behind him and assuming a defensive position again when he stopped. “Was that… _Steve_?”

Darcy groaned. “Can this day get any more awkward?” She tied her robe tighter and moved to finally answer the door. Bucky caught her arm.

“Why is Steve at your door?”

“Oh I don’t know. The Universe hates me and likes to see me suffer?” she grumbled. “Just go wait in the bedroom please? We need to have a grown up talk before airing whatever this is out in the open.” Darcy gave him a sweet peck on the lips to ease the weight of her words. “And maybe put some pants on? You’ll put an eye out with that thing, kid.”

She firmly closed the door behind her and put on her best innocent yet unimpressed expression while crossing her apartment to figure out why in the name of Odin’s Beard had Jane and Steve joined forces to annoy her.

“Cap, Boss Lady,” she greeted as she opened the front door to a worried Steve and an angry Jane. Steve surprised everyone by pushing both woman aside and inviting himself into Darcy’s apartment, seemingly searching for injustice or whatever the hell Captain America does.

“No, it’s cool. You can come on in, make yourself at home, maybe take a bubble bath if feel like it – Ow! Jane!” Darcy turned from glaring nervously at Steve scanning her living room to Jane after the tiny woman pinched her arm.

“Darcy, I really need those expense reports done by like yesterday. What are you doing?” Jane asked, hands on her hips and everything. Darcy sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Would you believe I don’t feel well?”

“Where’s Sam?” Steve interjected, seemingly out of nowhere. Darcy turned to stare at him like he had grown a third eye.

_“I don’t know_ ,” she replied slowly. “Did you lose him? Where’s the last place you had him?”

Steve leveled Darcy with the most disappointed look, it almost felt like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny had gotten together to disapprove of her life choices. “I know you spent the night with him, Darce. I just need to talk to him.”

Darcy felt herself turn red and flustered. “I’ll have you know I spent the night alone, not that it’s any of your business.” It wasn’t a _lie_ , but when staring good old earnest Steve in the face it sure felt like one.

“Darcy, we heard voices,” Jane piped in with a sympathetic look.

“TV?” she responded weakly. She sounded pitiful. Jane saw the defeated look in her friend’s eyes and her stomach lurched. She felt awful.

“You know what, that’s probably what it was. I’m sure I just heard the television. Steve, we should go and let Darcy get dressed.” The scientist gave her assistant a small smile before turning to grab the man that was at least twice her size. Steve shrugged her off easily.

“Sam!” he called, like if he used his captain voice Sam would be compelled to appear out of nowhere like a freaking fairy. Instead the call was met with what sounded like something heavy tearing through drywall from behind the bedroom door.

Jane screamed and Steve quickly stood in a defensive position, putting himself between the room and the women. Darcy sighed, rapidly reaching her wits end. She felt bad for the suffering lunatic hiding in her bedroom, but if he didn’t learn to control his anger she was going to owe Landlord Stark a lot of favors.

“Now look what you did, Steve! You upset …my cat so much he’s destroying things. Are you happy? I think you better leave.” This also wasn’t _really_ a lie, per se. Bucky shared many qualities with a feral cat. It was more _molding_ the truth. She wrapped her good hand around a meaty bicep and pulled fruitlessly. Steve was a brick shit house. And now that he was worried for her safety, he wasn’t moving until he had answers.

“Your cat?” he asked, frowning down at her. She nodded. Nodding wasn’t lying.

“You mean the cat currently using your sofa for a scratching post? That cat?” And busted.

“What? No, bad kitty! I bought you all these toys. Stop ruining my stuff,” she scolded, turning her back on Steve’s unamused face and Jane’s concerned glare. Darcy plucked Doug from the couch and deposited him on the carpet next to a large basket of brightly colored cat toys. It felt like everything in her life was malfunctioning all at once.

“Darcy is someone threatening you? Who’s behind the door?” Steve asked quietly, keeping his body towards her bedroom door, but angling his earnest face to look her in the eyes.

Darcy took a deep, calming breath, just like Dr. Banner taught her, and prepared to come clean. Only to be interrupted by everyone’s favorite redheaded spy.

“What’s with all the ruckus?” Natasha asked, leaning jauntily in the outside door jam and quirking a perfectly sculpted brow at the scene in the apartment.

“For fucks sake! _What do you people want from me_?” Darcy huffed, threw her arms up in the air in a tantrum worthy of Tony Stark and hurled herself down on her couch.

“Calm down, _myshka_. I was just looking for James. We have a mission.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I am so sorry for leaving it like that, but I needed a place to end this chapter before going into the events that will ultimately lead to the sequel. Thanks for reading though. I still love you, even if you hate me a little bit for leaving you all hanging.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that wait and this is what I give you?
> 
> I am sorry.
> 
> But the end of this installment means the beginning of a new one! And I have so much more planned for these guys...
> 
> Thank you all for the reviews and kudos! I love each and every one of you guys and promise to start posting more.

Darcy felt her heart drop to the floor and the breath leave her lungs in a dizzying rush. The word “mission” echoed in her head, along with a growing insecurity. A mission she didn’t know about. That meant that it was one of the super secret, and even more delicate, assignments that couldn’t be linked back to the Avengers. Much like the one Natasha recently returned home from, injured and rattled.

Lately, it had been easy for Darcy to forget the fact that those missions were Bucky’s job. But he wasn’t just her trainer or now a lover. And he wasn’t an Avenger, at least not to the public like Steve or Tony. He was a ghost with a very specific skill set. A dangerous man that lead an even more dangerous life.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, looking lost. “Why would you be looking for him here?”

Natasha squared her shoulders and stood up straight, glancing apologetically at Darcy, waiting for the penny to drop.

Jane suddenly went wide eyed. A strangled squeak escaped her before she clapped a hand over her mouth and smacked Steve hard across the chest. Twin looks of revelation appeared on their slack-jawed faces. Steve looked close to stroking out.

“No. Way.” they chimed in unison.

“Can I come out now?” came Bucky’s gruff voice from behind the bedroom door. Darcy made herself small and attempted to disappear into the couch cushions. “Darcy?”

Darcy made a sound like a cross between a whimper and a groan before hiding her face in a pillow. She tried valiantly to ignore the three pairs of eyes burning holes into her, but failed miserably. “Might as well,” she called out before she lost her nerve completely, along with her voice.

The bedroom door finally opened and Bucky strolled out confident and thankfully, fully clothed. He caught sight of Darcy practically cowering on the couch and frowned accusingly at everyone else in the room.

“You mind explaining this all to me?” he asked, trying to remain calm and not boil over. She peaked out at him from behind her pillow, looking like a nervous wreck, and he had to clench his fists to keep from lashing out at his friends.

Jane, startled, just gaped at him, looking like some sort of dying guppy with her mouth opening and closing slowly. Steve at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

“We thought that Darcy and… well,” Steve waffled, eyeing Bucky carefully. The other man’s body language screamed confrontation, and Steve knew mentioning Sam at that moment would have been unwise. He sent a pleading look to Jane, who simply shrugged helplessly back, before trying a different approach.

“I was originally looking for _you_ and clearly didn’t think I’d find you _here_.”

“And I needed Darcy to come do her job, and I clearly didn’t think I’d find _you_ here either,” Jane added, making her best friend groan again. _Shut up, Jane. You’re making it worse._

Momentarily appeased, Bucky trained his darkened gaze on Natasha, who held it for a long while in a good old fashioned deadlock. Bucky flinched first and Natasha rolled her eyes at him.

“You know why I’m here, James,” she said, crossing her arms and looking like an unamused babysitter.

“Yeah, yeah a mission,” he growled out. “Why don’t you get your little circus freak to go with you, Nat? I’m busy.”

“It’s the Red Room,” she replied, her voice near a whisper.

The change was instantaneous and all encompassing. At Natasha’s words, Bucky tensed and his eyes went from vaguely pissed off to livid, nearly crazed. His manner, never fully casual or relaxed to begin with, became like that of a soldier that had been captured behind enemy lines. Desperate. Furious. Resolved.

Natasha, in a movement that felt nonchalant and innocent, but was clearly a tactical decision, stalked over to the former Winter Soldier, inserting her body in between him and the rest of the room while leaning in to whisper something in Russian.

“What’s going on? What’s the “Red Room”?” Darcy demanded, her embarrassment erased by the nagging sense of doom that had enveloped her apartment.

Bucky turned to face her so fast she feared he got whiplash. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, doll,” he responded derisively, his face twisted in anger.

“Buck-” Steve began chastisingly, only to be cut off by an incredulous huff by Darcy.

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Darcy pushed herself off the couch, ignoring Natasha’s warning glance and getting right up in Bucky’s space. She could feel the tension rolling of him in sick waves and it scared the living hell out of her. But she straightened her spine, fused her hands to her hips, and let her own anger do the talking. “You don’t get to just fuck me and close yourself off again. It doesn’t work like that, asshole!”

The tension in the room skyrocketed to critical levels. Every pair of eyes was keenly focused on Bucky, waiting for his next move. For a split second, Natasha thought he was going to throw Darcy against the wall and choke the life out of her. She was prepared to incapacitate Barnes, if needed, but was stunned when Bucky barked out a laugh and flashed a grin down at the small, angry woman.

“God, you’re perfect!” he exclaimed, stooping down to kiss the corner of the scowl on Darcy’s face. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t bullshit you if I tried. You really want to know what the Red Room is, go ask Barton.” He shared a private look with Natasha before continuing. “And if that doesn’t make you run for the hills then I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“B-but… you’re leaving?” Darcy stuttered, all bravado lost. Everything was happening so fast, her head was spinning. The sheets weren’t even cold yet and Bucky was already on his way, (granted he was most likely off to slay bad guys, not go play video games and never call her again, but it still burned all the same) no time to even stop and find their bearings.

“Yeah, I gotta, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He looked lost for a moment before carefully reaching a hand out and rubbing the fluffy fabric of the robe on her shoulder.

Darcy shrugged, trying to be cool when her heart felt like it was beating double time with dread. “It’s okay. Occupational hazard.”

“James, I hate to do this, but wheels up in thirty. We gotta make this snappy, partner,” Natasha butted in, genuinely looking upset, but still getting on Bucky’s nerves. He grunted at her in response and turned his attention back to Darcy.

“So soon?” she asked in a tiny voice as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed like his life depended on it. She couldn’t quash the thought that it could very well be the last time they touched, and it made her hold on all the tighter.

“Take care of yourself, Sweetheart. I’ll be mad if I come back and you’re all soft again,” Bucky croaked, his voice gruff and teasing. Darcy tried not to let the “if” get to her as she lifted her head to smile up at him.

“No promises, asshole.” And if her voice cracked a bit toward the end, no one mentioned it.

Bucky was painfully aware of the extra bodies in the room witnessing this rather private exchange with his girl, but he couldn’t make himself let go just yet. The upcoming days were sure to be filled with horrors and old ghosts galore, making this embrace with Darcy seem like a mere dream. He tucked his head into her shoulder and nuzzled her hair, doing his best to memorize every touch, smell, sensation of having this woman in his arms. He would need it where he and Natasha were headed next.

Natasha felt something clench in her chest as she witnessed her old friend cling to her new one like it was the last night on earth. She felt irreverent just looking at them, so she turned to Steve and flashed him a grin.

“I have to say, I was skeptical when you first mentioned the set-up, but clearly your way got the results. You’ll have to call Sam and tell him the good news.”

Darcy jolted in Bucky’s arms like she’d been electrocuted. “Sam! What was I thinking?” she pushed herself out of his reach and started to tug at her messy hair. “How tacky am I, sleeping with his competition for Steve’s BFF not even 12 hours after our date!?”

Both Steve and Bucky blustered a bit at that, but they were generally ignored by the women. Natasha muttered to herself in Russian.

Jane stepped out from behind Steve and pulled Darcy’s hands from her hair. “Darcy, I think you may be overreacting,” she stated calmly, giving Steve the stink eye from over Darcy’s shoulder. Steve flushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Bucky frowned, his eyes darting between Natasha and Steve. He shook his shaggy head at the sudden realization.  “You two are a pair to beat a full house, you know that?” he accused, clearly fighting a smile.

“Wha?” Darcy stuttered, turning back to Bucky, a helpless look on her face.

“Who do you think set you up with Sam, Darce? And hell, Natasha’s been nagging me about you since day one. It wouldn’t surprise me if the whole fucking Tower had a stake in getting us together.” He shrugged, taking the meddling in his love life surprisingly well. Darcy, on the other hand, was seeing red.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” She screeched, stamping her bare feet on the carpet. She shot Jane a mutinous look. “You manipulating little fuckers!”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with this!” Jane replied, dropping her fists to her tiny waist. “Wait, why did I have nothing to do with this? I’m her best friend!”

The pair of them rounded on Steve and Natasha, the latter of whom was in the middle of slinking silently out the door, intending on leaving Steve to the she-wolves. She turned gracefully on her toes and pointed an accusing finger at Steve.

“It was all Cap’s idea,” she told them with a little smirk. Bucky was close to busting a seam from holding in his laughter at the look on his best friend’s face.

The good Captain turned red and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “traitor” under his breath. “You two were miserable! We had to do _something_ ,” he practically whined.

“The property damage alone _was_ getting a little ridiculous,” Natasha chimed in, coming to Steve’s rescue after throwing him under the bus. “James was going through equipment like tissue paper. And you-” she turned to Darcy and leveled her with a glare. “You were wandering around the Tower like a kicked puppy, too stupid to accept that James was crazy about you. I tried the upfront way to get the two of you together, but you’re both more stubborn than a pair of mules, so I had to use a bit of subterfuge,” she finished with an elegant toss of her red hair.

Darcy, still fuming, opened her mouth to retort, but Bucky smartly reached out and covered her mouth with his metal hand. “Do not poke the bear, Sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. Darcy nodded, but Bucky kept his hand there as a safety measure. He knew better than anyone how Natasha got before a mission, and one a close to home as the Red Room must have really been putting her on edge.

“And it wasn’t the whole Tower, _Skatina_ ,” Natasha spat at Bucky, clearly having heard his hushed words to Darcy. “Just Steve and I… and well, Sam too eventually.”

At that Steve made a choking sound and burst into a fit of coughs. Everyone turned to him as he turned an alarming shade of tomato red. Jane took pity on him and stepped forward to awkwardly clap him on the back. She had to stand on tip-toes to even reach. Darcy was immediately reminded of the time when Doug swatted his tiny kitten paws at Clint’s dog, Lucky. The old mutt had barely noticed the little nuisance.

“Steven,” Natasha growled, baring her teeth at the stuttering Captain. “You did let Sam in on the plan, _didn’t you?”_

For a man that took down Hydra twice, Steve oddly seemed to shrink a few sizes in front of the relatively petite Russian woman. She wasn’t the one he should have been afraid of though. Jane stopped patting his back, and opted to punch him the side instead. “You, _you_ … _geriatric fuckwad!”_ the tiny doctor yelled, continuing her barrage of fists at Steve. He looked down at his abuser with an expression of utter shock, not even bothering to block any of her shots.

Bucky bent over and howled with laughter, his back shaking from the force of it.  Darcy, finally released from his grip, stomped over to Steve and stretched up on tip-toes to grab hold of his right ear, a technique she learned from her grandmother. “Really, Steven? You didn’t tell Sam, the most earnest, trustworthy guy on the planet, that the date you set us up on was really _a ploy to get me into Bucky’s pants!?”_

“I-I... oh come on! It was one date, _ouch_!” Darcy gave his ear a sharp tug. “ _Fine_ , I fouled up! Just give me my ear back, please. And could you stop hitting me, Dr. Foster? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Jane straightened with a huff of indignation as Darcy released Steve’s ear. “You owe Sam, Bucky, and Darcy an apology,” she declared, sounding eerily like a kindergarten teacher disciplining a wayward student. No one thought it was possible, but Bucky laughed harder than ever.

Steve sighed, shooting a death glare to his hysterical best friend, before facing Darcy. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry, Darcy. I guess I was so desperate to see my old friend happy again, I got a little carried away. Can you forgive me?” He asked solemnly and ended with the patented Steve Rogers self-effacing smile. It’d be tantamount to defacing the American Flag to say no to that face.

“Alright, I forgive you, Rogers,” Darcy replied, returning the smile. “But you can bet your star spangled ass that I’m going to get you back.”

Bucky snorted one last time and threw his human arm around Darcy’s shoulder. “You can save your breath apologizing to me, punk. I’m confident this pistol will serve you up some just desserts while I’m gone.” He squeezed her tight to his side and flashed his nervous best friend a grin.

“Give him double the hell for me too, Darcy,” Natasha said, but a somber frown slide over her beautiful face. “20 minutes till take off, James. It’s now or never.”

The grin vanished from Bucky’s lips. “Copy that.” He spun Darcy around to face him one last time. “Sweetheart, I hate to leave like this, but I gotta. I guess this is-”

Darcy cut him off with a quick press of her lips against his. “Don’t you ever say “goodbye” to me, asshole. It’s too permanent. I will see you when you get back home.”

Home. Bucky relished the sound of the word coming from her mouth. “Okay, I’ll see you when I get home. You too, punk, Dr. Foster,” he added as an afterthought, not even bothering to turn to look at the others.

The fledgling couple broke apart after another brief kiss and Bucky let himself be dragged from the room by an anxious Black Widow. “I already briefed Clint on picking up your training, Darce,” Natasha called over her shoulder as they made their way to the ready room.

There was a moment of tense silence after they left, like all the sound was sucked out of the room through a vacuum. Steve cleared his throat, about to say something, only to be cut off by a snort of laughter from Darcy. Both Jane and Steve turned to gawk at her, matching worried expressions on their faces.

“Did you really just call Captain America a “ _geriatric fuckwad_ ”?” She laughed.

Jane squawked, turning pink. “ _Shut up_! God, I’m sorry, Steve. I’m so stupid. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steve shrugged and gave her a good-natured smile. “Don’t sweat it, Dr. Foster. I’ve been called a lot worse by _a lot_ stupider.” Jane responded with a relieved little smile.

“Shouldn’t we, uh, get to work or something?” Darcy asked, not wanting to give her mind time to wander, because it surely would wander right over to the fact that Bucky had been gone for like two seconds and her chest hurt, she missed him so much. So, no. No wandering.  “Not that this hasn’t been a blast, but you did come barging in here and ruined my alone time with Bucky for a reason, right?” Darcy reminded her boss, crossing her arms over her chest with a disgruntled look on her face.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Keep your panties on, Darce, Jeez.”

“ _I’m not wearing any panties_ , Jane! Who’s fault is that!?”

Steve made another choking noise. “I- uh, I should go…” he trailed off, looking like a giant baby deer that had just stumbled into a den of predators. “Have to um, call Sam. So, I’ll see you ladies later.” With that he backed out of Darcy’s apartment and wandered off down the hall, with his proverbial tail between his legs.

* * *

 

About a week later, Steve arrived at his parking spot in the garage only to drop his helmet in utter shock.

His bike, the bike he rebuilt from scratch, his child with two wheels and a motor was precisely where he left it, but oh god, something was seriously wrong.

Someone had painted _the entire bike_ (the lights, tires, EVERYTHING) bubblegum pink then crudely drawn a pair of bird’s wings on the frame. As Steve approached his baby in horror, he noticed a Captain America action figure wearing nothing but the shield propped up behind the handlebars with a piece of notebook paper taped to its bare ass.

He sighed the sigh of a man that had seen far too much as he lifted the small, polyethylene version of himself and tore the note off. Part of him, most of him, didn’t even want to know what it said, but he unfolded it nonetheless and read the messy scrawl.

“‘On your left’-” he read aloud, turning to his left just in time to receive a massive water balloon to the face. A camera flashed immediately after, followed by two distinct, very enthusiastic laughs.

Steve stood there, sopping wet and still holding the naked Captain America doll, and waited for his so called friends to finish. Darcy came up for air first, clutching at Sam with one hand and a digital camera with the other.

“Oh god yes, I am so going to get prints of this and hang them up all over Tony’s office!” She cackled, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I think I might send one to my mom!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his friend and captain a grin before putting an arm around Darcy’s shoulder and steering her back to the Tower. “Then maybe she’ll stop calling him her ‘favorite avenger’.”

“Very funny, guys.”

“Told you I’d get you back, Cap,” Darcy said smoothly over her shoulder as she and Sam stepped through the automatic doors. Neither looked back as they hissed shut, leaving Steve alone and dripping in the garage.

“Wait, aren’t you guys going to at least help me clean up?” Steve shouted after them. “... _guys_?”

 


End file.
